Chapter 18 Drew
DREW
We’ve still got too many unfinished pieces for Santa’s Village, and I’m seriously stressing out, but Greyson offered to stay late with me to finish as much as we can before the early morning set up.
I’m covered in paint and sawdust, and my eyes are starting to cross when Greyson breaks out a few beers.
“Come on. You need a break. It’s almost midnight.” He offers me a cold bottle, and the malty tang pulls a sigh out of me. His smile eases some of the tension as he takes his own swig. “Remember that the kids aren’t going to obsess over the details the same way you do.”
My shoulders drop, tension crackling along my back. It’s true, and I needed to hear it, but I can’t help myself. Greyson must read my mind because he laughs.
“Perfectionist. Always was.”
“Always will be.” I smile back. Being around Greyson is easy. He doesn’t pile on the expectations, and we just get each other. It’s a nice change.
He leans against the stack of two-by-fours beside me, our elbows brushing. “I think you’ve done a damn good job, Drew. Better than anyone else in this town could have.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks as I take another swig of my beer. He nudges me with his elbow.
“Still terrible at taking compliments, too, I see.”
Sighing, I tip my head back and look at him out of the corner of my eye. “Don’t have a lot of practice is all.”
“Well, I’ll have to make a point to give you more practice then.”
The way my cheeks are flaming, I must be brighter red than Santa’s sleigh, so I redirect. “You think the kids are going to like the gifts I have for Santa to give out?”
Greyson turns, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear, bemusement curling his mouth. “Yes. Stop fretting.”
I pout. “I’m not sure I know how.”
“I’ve got ways of taking your mind off of it.” The chill of his fingers traces around my ear, following the curve of my throat and down to my low collar.
Sparks follow in the wake of his touch and desire blooms low in my belly. I find that I enjoy the way he looks at me far too much.
“What did you have in mind?” Wow, my voice has gone hoarse, and the way his blue eyes darken even further, it’s obvious he’s noticed.
Greyson tilts his head to the side, like he’s contemplating his next move. “Could toss you in the snow and cool you off. Looks like you might be overheating.”
But his voice is dangerous and sexy. Is he testing his options? Where the line is between flirting and going too far?
He has no idea that I’ve replayed what it felt like to have him touch me over and over again when I lay alone in my bed at night.
“Don’t you dare.”
That blooms a full smile across his face, the kind that makes his eyes shine and shows off those little crinkling lines around them. It enhances how good-looking he is.
“You don’t know this about me, Drew, but I cannot resist a dare.”
“That wasn’t a dare.”
“Too late.” He sets his beer down and snatches me around the waist, swinging me into the air.
I press my thumb over the mouth of my beer to keep from spilling, and a loud squeal erupts from my throat without my permission.
“Greyson!”
He lunges for the door, and I grab a hold of the back of his shirt.
“Better offer me another option if you don’t want to land that pretty ass in the snow.”
I can’t hold back another squeal, giggling as he takes big steps to threaten me. “You’re going to spill my beer.”
“I’ll get you another.”
Groaning in frustration, I resort to the only thing that might remotely stop him.
I sink my fingers into his brown hair and squeeze tight, pulling his head back to look up at me.
His nostrils flare, and I’ve discovered another little something that turns him on.
Good.
I drop my mouth over his, lightly, taking small tastes until his grip on me shifts, sliding me down his body until my legs are firmly wrapped around his waist.
I open to him, inviting him in, and he takes the opportunity, kissing me like the expert I know him to be.
My grip in his hair tightens, and he moans into my mouth, pressing my back against a nearby wall and showing me just how hard I’ve made him.
Yes. That’s what I want.
I’m already slick with need, more than ready for this.
Greyson’s the safest option of them all to be intimate with like this, so I take the plunge. I find the leverage to rub myself against his hard length.
Nipping at his bottom lip, I find my voice. “Didn’t you say you have a cot in here somewhere?”
“Yes.” That one word tumbles over gravel and spears through me.
“Show me.”
He only hesitates for a heartbeat before he’s carrying me through his workshop to the back of the barn.
A small room has a chair, a side table, and a full-on mattress propped on a wooden box—almost like a bedroom, but it doesn’t look like he’s been back here all that recently.
Greyson drops to one knee on the mattress and slowly lowers me to it, taking the bottle from my hand and setting it aside before he returns, kissing me like a man on a mission.
My soft moan seems to rile him up further because his hands slide down my body possessively, kneading my hips and lifting me once more.
My back hits the cushion, and I’m under the long planes of his body.
The hint of his weight is so delicious.
I squeeze him with my thighs and get a responding roll of his hips.
We grind together for long moments, and I’m on the edge of combustion.
Breaking our kiss, Greyson pants above me. “Fuck, Drew. Tell me what you want because if you don’t stop me, I’m going to strip you bare and take everything I’ve been daydreaming about.”
Oh fuck. It doesn’t matter what everything entails, I already know that I want it.
But…
“Tell me,” I prompt.
Kisses spread down my throat, teeth sink into the curve where my neck meets my shoulder, and Greyson pulls a needy moan out of me.
“I want to spread my mouth over every inch of your skin. Feel the way it gives under my teeth. Suck on those perky little nipples.” As if to prove his point, his mouth surrounds my left breast over my shirt and the soft cup of my bra.
Despite the layers between us, the heat envelopes me almost to scorching.
God, the noise that comes out of me sounds wild, and Greyson swears against my breastbone.
“I want to taste you, have you come across my tongue.”
His teeth pinch again, drawing out a sharp cry.
“I want to slide inside of you, take you from every angle until you beg me to stop.”
I yank at his hair, reveling in the deep noise that vibrates over my skin. “Yes. Please. All of it.”
Greyson shudders. After a second of stalling, he pounces on me, kissing me like no man should have the right to, hands skimming under my shirt, pulling it up until he has to retreat to strip it from me.
His big nimble fingers unclasp my bra with confidence.
Once I’m free of it, he descends like a starving man, licking, sucking, biting until I’m writhing under his attention.
When he pops the button of my jeans, I’m nearly crazy with need. “Please. God, please, Greyson. Please.”
“God, Drew, you’re killing me.” He peels my jeans off my hips and down my legs.
Quick and efficient.
But instead of crawling back up my body, he settles my knees over his shoulders, rubbing his rough chin over my soaking panties.
The friction makes me jump and whimper.
I need more. So much more. He’s driving me mad.
After a few more teasing touches, he draws back and takes the little strip of cloth separating us with him.
Then, he feasts.
It’s the only word I can think of to describe it before my mind goes blank.
My body takes over, undulating, hips lifting and seeking his mouth and tongue and teeth as he splays me open, delves inside me, sucks on my clit.
I feel the vibrating of his moans more than hear them, and they drive me that much further.
As intense as every move he makes is, it’s not enough. He’s holding back, keeping me from that edge I so desperately want to fall over.
When I reach back for his hair, twisting it in my grip, his moan fills me up, nearly shoving me into the warm haze of an orgasm, but he pulls back right as it’s within my grasp.
“You want to come for me, Drew?”
“Yes. Yes. Please.”
“Look at me.”
I lift my head, used to his orders, to his pushing me, but I’m bulldozed by the gleam in his eyes.
“Say it. Ask me for what you want.”
I gasp, my breath stuck in my throat.
He waits, planting the softest kiss on my clit.
“Make me come. Please, God, Greyson, make me come.”
“That’s my girl.” His growl is new for me. I’m addicted.
His intent changes, and I’m a goner.
The pleasure builds so fast I can barely grasp it.
Then, Greyson presses two blunt fingers to my entrance, circling and circling and circling, and when they plunge inside my center, my back curls off the mattress.
My world explodes.
I re-enter reality to Greyson’s soft kisses along the insides of my thighs, fingers lazily thrusting into me.
The chill in the air spreads goosebumps across my skin, turning my nipples into diamonds. Greyson grins up at me.
“Ready for another?”
I whimper, but it’s the pleased kind. Half a laugh. “I’ll take whatever you give me.”
He hums. “That’s a dangerous invitation, Drew.”